


The Third Option

by AnnaofAza



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, M/M, Villain Harry Hart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 23:56:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4765763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaofAza/pseuds/AnnaofAza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Have you ever heard of the Philippa Foot trolley problem?”</p><p>It's not just Arthur who's on Valentine's side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Third Option

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on [my tumblr.](http://annaofaza.tumblr.com/post/128694348358/third-option)

“This is what Kingsmen do,” Harry says, calm and placating, as always. He’s sitting like a gentleman, hands folded neatly on his lap, not one hair out of place. “They make sacrifices for the greater good of the world.”

Eggsy shakes his head, rooted in place. “No. _No_ ,” he repeats, still disbelieving all of this. “This isn’t what you taught me, Harry! This isn’t right! You’re supposed to protect people—”

“And we are. Eggsy, don’t you understand? Have you ever heard of the Philippa Foot trolley problem?”

He can’t believe Harry’s trying to lecture him in the face of worldwide genocide. “No,” he spits. “No, and I fucking—”

“Of course you haven’t,” Arthur cuts in impatiently from the head of the room. His neck is turned away from Eggsy, as if trying to hide the scar Eggsy now knows is there, identical to Harry’s. “Honestly, Galahad, if the boy isn’t going to say yes—”

“I’ll explain it,” Harry says, raising his voice, but otherwise staying in his seat. “Imagine this. There is a runaway trolley, and on the tracks, down in its path, are five people. They’re tied down, much like you and Roxy and Charlie were, except that it’s very much real, and they’re truly in very much danger.” Eggsy knows he should stop listening, look for a weapon or phone or something, but it’s Harry. He’s always listened to Harry, even on the mind-numbingly boring topics such as the proper care of silk and how to identify different types of cravats. He doesn't stand a chance. 

“You are standing next to a lever, near the railway,” Harry continues patiently. “If you pull that lever, the trolley will go onto a different track. However, you notice there’s one person on that very same track.” He then locks eyes with Eggsy. “You now have a choice. Do nothing, and allow the trolley to kill the five people on the first track. Or divert the trolley by pulling the lever, and only one person dies.”

It reminds him of last night, of Harry giving him brain teasers while Eggsy shook martinis: _“Being a Kingsman doesn’t just involve punching and shooting.”_

_“Roxy’s the smart one,” Eggsy had replied in frustration._

_“On the contrary, you are very smart. A true gentleman is refined in many arts, not just one. You are such a man—gymnastics, weapons, driving, loyalty…” Harry then turned to smile at him. “And a good heart.”_

_Eggsy smiled back, cheeks flushed under Harry’s praise. “Isn’t that Galahad, then? Knight with the purest heart?”_

_Harry then laughed, reaching out to lightly tousle Eggsy’s hair. His fingers lingered, brushing lightly against the scalp before slowly pulling away, and Eggsy had felt the area prickle gently underneath the touch. “Now, who says you’re not smart?”_

Now, Eggsy looks at the man he thought he knew: the man who rescued him, who have him a second chance when no one else did, the man he…

No. No. Of all the times to realize…

Eggsy shakes his head, backing away from the table. He could run; he’s so close to the door. “This isn’t what I signed up for. This isn’t what I said I’d die for.”

Arthur huffs, and steps forward, hand reaching for his pocket. “You made your choice, then.”

“Harry,” Eggsy pleads, not daring to take his eyes off of Arthur. “Harry, you have to know this is wrong. Please!”

Harry doesn’t move. “Eggsy,” he says sadly, “I had such high hopes for you…”

Eggsy swallows. Harry knows. Harry knows that one of his greatest fears is disappointing the ones he cares about.“This isn’t who I want to be,” he protests. “My whole life has been protectin' people, and I’m not going to fail at that. Not again.”

His mum’s face swims in front of his eyes, black eye on display. Dean had done that to her, more than once, and Eggsy feels guilt gnawing at his chest. He had left her, he had left his mum in the hands of someone who tried to kill him with a knife, he had—

He had left her, yes, but didn’t Harry threaten to turn in Dean to the authorities? It wouldn’t have taken much time to do that, not with Eggsy being released less than five minutes of calling the number on the back of the medal.

He doesn’t have much time to think more, because Arthur pulls out a _gun._

Eggsy throws up both hands in panic, continuing to back away. He can almost feel the door at his back.

“Arthur,” Harry says, with a tighter edge to his voice this time. “Eggsy is a clever, promising young man. Perhaps Valentine can find a use for him.”

“Most likely he’d end up in one of those bloody cells,” Arthur dismissively mutters. “Best take of—”

In one, quick motion, Eggsy grabs the handle and pushes down, twisting himself around the open door, and Arthur curses and fires—but the door is bulletproof, just as Eggsy had been counting on—

And he runs. He’s never been a track star, but Eggsy knows how to escape tight situations—knows what to do if he’s in danger—knows to just retreat than fight a losing battle—

He slams into a body, and he panics, grabbing the arm and twisting—

“Eggsy!” Roxy gasps, and he immediately lets go. “Eggsy, what’s going on? What are you—”

“Harry and Arthur are on Valentine’s side,” Eggsy hurriedly says. “Rox, please, take me to Merlin—”

He then hears the sound of thundering footsteps.

Roxy’s a smart girl—she snatches Eggsy and pulls him into the nearest room and quietly shuts the door, listening to the footsteps barrel down the hallway.

“There’s a communicator in every room in case something goes wrong,” she hisses, pointing to a speaker on the other side of the room. “We just press a button, and Merlin—”

The door suddenly bursts open, as if someone's kicked it; Eggsy doesn't even hear the hinges creak underneath the heavy, decisive thud.

“Rox, call Merlin!” Eggsy shouts, and Roxy flips over the fucking table like a shield, glasses and a vase shattering on the floor, then races to the wall.

It’s Harry, pointing a gun directly at him. “I don’t want to do this, Eggsy. Just come with me, quietly—”

“Since when have I ever done a thing like that?” Eggsy scoffs behind the table, as Roxy frantically says, “It’s Harry—he’s going to kill us, Merlin—do something!—”

Harry fires, and Roxy gasps, hand shooting up to her left ear. Blood drips from her fingers.

 _“Rox!”_ Eggsy cries out.

“Come with me, now, Eggsy,” Harry demands. “Please.”

It's not even a choice. “All right, all right.” Eggsy steps around the table, hands raised in the air, ignoring Roxy’s protests. “Don’t hurt her any more, all right? Okay? I’m coming, see?” He keeps walking, even with the muzzle pointed at him and with glass shards crunching underneath his trainers, and keeps his eyes on Harry. It’s only when his forehead touches cool metal that Harry lowers the gun and quickly places both hands on his shoulders.

“Eggsy,” Harry says, and Eggsy keeps Roxy in sight, who’s edging along the wall. The older man squeezes, and Eggsy can feel his skin underneath his jacket begin to bruise. He’s so close that he could smell Harry’s aftershave. “If I take you back to Arthur, he’ll kill you. I don’t want—”

His grip suddenly slackens, and Harry gasps, pitching forwards and falling face-first towards the carpet. Eggsy catches him before he can hit the ground, but lets him go almost immediately with a thump. He turns around to see Roxy, pale-faced in front of a panel opened in the wall, with an umbrella still trained on Harry’s prone body.

“Merlin,” she says, head turning towards the speaker, “I think I got him.”

“Is he…?” Eggsy hesitantly asks, but Roxy shakes her head.

“No, I just stunned him. We might need him later for questioning. And…” She looks at Eggsy. “I don’t think you would have let me kill him.”

“Eggsy, Roxy, are both of you all right?” Merlin then demands, voice sounding considerably shaky. “I can see Arthur—he’s still searching, but that commotion might be drawing him near. And those darts won’t last more than ten minutes. Harry may wake up—”

“Yes, let’s restrain him,” Roxy instructs, and Eggsy stumbles over to Harry’s body and begins knotting the wrists behind his back with Harry’s own tie. His fingers are deft and sure, but his knees are shaking. He can feel Roxy at his back, still holding her weapon.

Harry doesn’t so much as twitch when Eggsy drags him over to the other side of the room, closes the door, and places Harry's body in front of it.

He then removes Harry’s glasses and puts them on, hearing Merlin say, “All right, lad, another umbrella is in the compartment. Are you two ready?”

“Yeah.” Eggsy looks at the body on the floor, and shudders. “Yeah, all right. Ready.”


End file.
